


Ice On Our Lips

by VoodooBatsy



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Car Accidents, Clothed Sex, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Everyone Thought They Were Together, Fireplaces, First Time, Getting Together, Grinding, M/M, No One Is Surprised When They Get Together, On a Supply Run, Porn with Feelings, Porn with some plot, Rutting, Sex In Clothing, Sexual Content, Snow Angels, Snow Day, Snowball Fight, Snowed In, Survival, Undead, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, fun in the snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoodooBatsy/pseuds/VoodooBatsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set In Prison Arc, Rick and Daryl leave on a run and get caught in a blizzard. Three days trapped in a house is a lot of time to explore feelings that have been building up for a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice On Our Lips

* * *

* * *

* * *

_**Ice On Our Lips By VoodooBatsy (Blythe Lovett)** _

* * *

It is snowing when they leave the prison for the run. Tiny barely there icy flakes that melt the second they touch the ground. It's cold enough that their clothes leave them chilled and their breath comes in clouds, but this run is needed. They need warmer clothes, Judith is running out of formula, formula, and the girls need feminine supplies. Rick and Daryl are the only two brave enough to even touch that topic who are not women themselves, so they are the ones sent on the last run before the blizzard hits.

They leave in their newest vehicle, a large blue minivan like what a soccer mom would have driven pre-apocalypse, with promises to make it back before the storm hits, or to at least find a safe place if they are caught up in the snow.

The run itself goes perfectly. They had to drive a few towns farther than their usual haunts, but the ice and snow makes the walkers slower, so it is easy to take them down just the two of them. Rick and Daryl end up with a pretty large haul, jugs of water from the back of a crashed truck, clothes and blankets, and even enough food that they won't have to worry about starving completely during the apocalypse. The Woodbury people are used to comfort, so they might feel the emptiness, but the others are used to it.

It is when they are driving back that the problem hits. The minivan skids across ice, tumbling the car around like a kicked soccerball down into a deep ditch. The two men are mostly fine, bruised with a couple twists and aches all over, but alive and without concussions or truly horrible injuries. Rick has a deep gash on his left hip from something catching on his skin as they and the stuff went flying around like they were in a blender, but the seatbelts protected them from the worst of it.

The snow has picked up so they are unable to grab all of the stuff. They cover the minivan with the fallen branchs, grab weapons, and make their way to the nearest shelter. It takes a while but they finaly find a house they can settle down in. Daryl has Rick stay outside as he climbs to the open second floor window to check out the security of the house. It is clear, not a walker to be found, with plenty of clothes and blankets to curl up under. There is even a fire place on the first floor near a pile of dry logs and a working lighter. Daryl gets the fire going quickly and steps out to get Rick.

He is surprised to find him laying in the snow, moving his arms and legs out and in. "What are you doing?" he asks curiously. Rick looks up at him and grins.

"Snow angels!" he says. "Come here. Every winter needs snow angels, even end of the world winters."

Daryl shifts uncomfortably. "I don't... I've never..." he clears his throat, face turning red. Rick seems to undetstand because he sits up with a sad expression.

"You've never made a snow angel." he doesn't ask. When Daryl just looks away, Rick grabs him by the ankle and pulls him down into the snow beside him. Daryl yelps in shock, the breath temporarily knocked out of him, and then blushes when Rick leans over him with a worried expression. "Alright?"

"No." Daryl frowns. "I'm bloody freezing. This is a terrible idea."

Rick laughs. "Just do what I do." he says. "I can not let someone go their whole life without at least one tiny snow angel."

Daryl watches his bestfriend, the man he's had a crush on for almost as long as he's known him, move around in the snow like a little kid for a little bit, then lays back too. "If walkers come and eat us because you want to act like a child, I will find a way to come back as a ghost and haunt your rotting corpse." he threatens, and then he copies Rick as the man laughs again.

It is actually really fun in an odd sort of way. Just laying in the cold snow, his feet and fingers occasionally brushing Rick's own. Daryl looses track of time in the falling snow, until the snow is freezing his bones, and his fingers brush through a bit of oddly red snow, causing him to notice that Rick has bled through the cloth they had wrapped around his hip. Rick looks just as surprised.

"Oops?" he says when Daryl glares. The younger helps him out of the snow, grumbling, and now that they are not in the snow, the bite of the freezing air suddenly becomes very obvious.

The fire is still going, nearly dead, but the house is warm and wonderful and the two work together to fet it going again before turning away from eachother to get dressed in warm dry clothes. Rick finds some needles and thread in one of the rooms, supposed to be used for stitching quilts or clothing, and he uses it to close the cut on his hip. The rudimentary stitches should hold. He cleans the blood away with snow heated up in a cup on the fire, and with both he and his wound dressed he makes his way back to the living room where Daryl has gathered every bit of cloth from every room and made a pile in front of the fire.

"That's all the clothes and blankets." he says when he sees Rick. "If we huddle together we should keep warm even if the fire dies."

"We can take turns keeping watch of the fire." Rick says. Then he curls up under all the blankets and pats the empty space near him. "Come here."

Despite best efforts they are both asleep in minutes, backs together, buried in and under blankets and clothes, the fire roaring and warm.

\------

When Rick wakes up an hour or so later it isn't because he is too warm. Despite everything he still feels kind of cold actually, his own fault for laying in the snow in only jeans and a thin short sleeved shirt. No it isn't the warmth, it is because he and Daryl have shifted in their sleep.

Daryl is on his side, facing Rick, one arm under his back and one arm over his chest, his legs curled up and resting against Rick's butt, his breath hot against Rick's throat. Rick is on his back, his own arm holding Daryl as close as possible with his other hand entwined in Daryls own. His legs are resting over top of Daryl's in a triangle, his bare feet up against Daryl's butt. It is pretty easy to tell in this possition that Daryl is as hard as he is.

"Umm Daryl?" he shakes him by the shoulder.

Daryl shifts with a grunt of protest. He tightens his octopus grip around Rick and sleepily murmurs against his jaw. "Five more minutes. Le'me sleep five more minutes, then I'll have sex with ya Rick."

Rick chokes on his own spit in shock. This wakes Daryl up, who was obviously awake enough to realize what he said because he turns as red as a fire engine. He tries to squirm away but Rick tightens his own grip.

"Rick le'me go." he says. Rick notices how lovely his barely awake rough voice sounds as he focuses on making sure that the blue eyed hunter can't escape. "I'm sor-mph!"

Rick cuts him off by grabbing him by the hair, pulling his head back, and kissing him deeply until he stops resisting and relaxes in his arms. Their stubbled cheeks feel oddly sharp in comparison to their soft chapped lips. "Shut up." he whispers against his lips.

Daryl nods. They stare at eachother for a few seconds, breathing hot and heavy against eachother's lips. "Do that again." Daryl whispers. Rick kisses his again, and when he pulls back Daryl has half a nind to demand he do it again, and again, and again as many times as he needs to, but before he can Rick is already kissing his way down his jawline to his throat.

They stay like that kissing until necessity makes them shuffle around awkwardly so it is a bit easier to touch each other. Now laying in between Rick's legs, Daryl goes to remove his shirts only to be stopped by Rick. "Don't want to risk hypothermia." he explains, and then he is pushing his hands under Daryl's shirts. "You're warm." he comments.

"You aren't." Daryl says. "You feel like you put your hands in a bucket of ice."

Rick chuckles breathlessly. "Sorry. My hands are always hard to warm up."

"The snow angels probably didn't help." Daryl says, but then they are kissing again and Rick's fingers are digging sharp nails into his hips as they grind their hips together to get some desperately needed friction.

Daryl notices a few things as Rick hikes one of his long lean legs over Daryl's hip, his own hand grabbing onto his leg to keep it in place, Rick's now free hand going back to his back. Daryl wouldn't concider himself a loud lover, he never had, but compared to the near silence of Rick's pants and sharp hitches of breath, his own quiet moans seem impossibly loud, despite being drowned out by the creaks of the house and howls of the wind. He always knew Rick would be good looking, but even though he can't see anything, Rick feels even more beautiful than Daryl had expected him too. But he is also thinner than expected. They'd gotten a good haul of food before winter when the Woodbury folk came to live with them, and they had all spoiled themselves with extra food to gain a little bit of soft fat to keep them warm and able to cope with the hunger of winter. But unlike even Daryl's small layer of softness above his apocalypse hardened muscle, Rick is all hard muscle and sharp angles, his ribs and hipbones noticable, his stomach slightly concaving. Daryl knows this sort of look too, because his body had the same shape during Lori's pregnacy. Keeping everyone else fed and full at risk of himself.

"I'm feeding you when we get hone." he growls breathless and panting as his hands explore Rick's body beneath his shirts. "Ya wouldn't be so cold if ya weren't a stubborn ass."

"If it means you're happy and you don't stop I don't care." Rick agrees and Daryl chuckles despite it all.

"You like this then sweetheart?" he pants against Rick's jaw in between kisses and nips, grinding their hips harder.

Rick moans aloud and the hand that had been digging nails into his back suddenly grabs hold of his hair to drag his head up for another kiss. Daryl makes a mental promise to try and get Rick to make that noise as many times as possible. Daryl shifts so that he can undo Rick's jeans, only slightly hindered by the multiple buttons instead of a zipper. He looks down with a growl.

"Two pairs of pants Rick?" he scowls at the offending zipper. "Was that really necessary?"

Rick grins shamelessly. "Shut up." he says. "You can't judge me. You're wearing eighty shirts."

"I'm wearing three." he says. "And I was cold."

"So was I." Rick grins.

Daryl scowls as he starts undoing Rick's pants. "Well my shirts aren't cockblocking us, unlike your pants."

Rick undoes Daryl's own jeans. "I think that is the point of pants. Otherwise we would all run around naked."

Daryl laughs and kisses him. "You're somethin' else Sweetheart."

The answering moan cements Daryl's belief that it was the pet name more than the actions that had drawn that reaction. He had never met anyone in the past, male or female, who ever had quite the same reaction. He doesn't get to dwell on this discovery because Rick's icy fingers are wrapping around both of them, surprisingly pleasant, and Daryl quickly gets with the program. It feels wonderful, their hands working together, kisses being traded in between harsher faster pants. Daryl has one hand grasping just above the cut on Rick's hip so tightly that he knows there will be a bruise in the shape of his hand there. Rick is trailing his nails across Daryl's scars in a way that should be uncomfortable, but instead makes him feel oddly safe. When Rick looks like he is close Daryl makes sure to murmur things like, "That's right Sweetheart. Doing so good." The way he archs his back and moans, grip tightening, nails digging into the curve of one of Daryl's scars as he comes, sets Daryl off faster than any other time he's had sex.

\------

They come back to themselves moments later, laying on their sides facing one another. Daryl glances at the fireplace. "Damn fire's going out again."

"Boo." Rick pouts. "Was hoping you were the cuddling type and that we could just lay here until we were ready to do it again."

Daryl gives him a surprised look. "Ya want ta do it again?" he asks.

Rick lifts himself up so that his head is rested on his palm and he's looking down at Daryl. "Of course." he says. "I don't ever sleep with people I'm not in love with. Not Lori, not Shane, and certainly not you." Daryl makes a mental note to ask what he meant by not Shane. Although it explains the lack of gay panic he was kind of expecting. "Why wouldn't I want to do this again?"

Daryl averts his eyes and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, "No one has ever stayed before."

Rick kisses him. "I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me until you don't want me anymore."

There is a comfortable silence for a beat, then Rick grins at his and says, "But just so you know it is a good thing we met after the world ended. Relationships don't work out when you are constantly seperated by bullet proof glass, and I look terrible in orange."

Daryl looks down at the pumpkin orange cat sweater Rick is wearing. All the clothing in this house is hideous and decorated with cats to be honest. "Yeah. Orange is definitly not your color."

He gets a pillow with suspicious stains in the face for that. Daryl rolls out of the covers and adds another log to the fire as Rick laughs shamelessly.

\------

When they come back to the prison three days later, after the blizzard has ended, in a red VolksWagen Jeta, snow coming up to their knees, Carol is the first to join them. She takes one look at the bite marks on Daryl's jaw and grins. "About time you two got together." she says.

The few others in the yard, Carl, Beth, Michonne, and a handfull of the Woodbury folk all give Carol a funny look. "I thought they were together!" Patrick yells. Everyone else give various types of agreement.

Herschel grins. "I'm with Carol. When did thus happen?"

Daryl and Rick look at eachother and grin. "I blame it on the snow angels." Rick says.

"What snow angels?" Beth asks.

There were probably more appropriate responses than Rick lobing a snowball at the blonde girl and starting a snowball fight, but that doesn't mean they did any of them.

The next day when everyone had a cold Rick just grinned. "Blame the snow angels?" he asks.

Beth pushes him out of his chair.


End file.
